An Empty Web
by TheeBlackSapphire
Summary: Day 1, and Peter's absent from class. Day 5, and Michelle learns the last time he was seen. Day 7, and she learns he was taken. Kidnapped. Torn from the people closest to him. Week 3, and he's found. (Written for the 2018 Secret Santa. Merry Christmas, Glittercat! Edited by Brentinator and rated T for safety.)
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone!**

 **This is my first fic since my Descendants one (The Cold Never Bothered Ben, Anyway!), and I'm super excited to post it. It's for the 2018 Secret Santa that is hosted by Brentinator and Glittercat, and I'm happy to announce that I'm the secret santa for Glittercat! I know I probably didn't follow the exact criteria I was given (who does?), but I hope you like it, Glitter, and I hope it's good enough.**

 **This story has been edited by Brentinator and the title was given to me by Gummybear1178.**

 **Enjoy! :)**

* * *

It happens halfway through their senior year.

It's completely unexpected, at first, when she sees it on the TV. And, yeah, sure, maybe it is nothing to get worried about because Peter's gone missing before (she still remembers what her and Ned had dubbed "The Staten Island Ferry Accident of 2016"), but this is different. This time, it wasn't of his own doing. This time, it wasn't voluntary. This time, it was by force.

She remembers the day he was taken. It was like any other, raining pouring down New York, as she walked the road, holding her umbrella in one hand, while trying to balance her book in the other. Her teacher, angry that she had came in late, had shot her a fixed glare and a sharp "Late again, Michelle," but she waved them away. With decathlon after school and homework to do at night, the only other time she could go to the library was the morning. And that barely just gave her enough time to breathe.

Seeing as her teacher had turned back to the board and started writing down equations while the other kids played on their phone, MJ had pulled out hers. _'Hey,'_ she texted. _'Where's Parker?'_

Ned texted back almost right away. _'Don't know,'_ he replied. _'May said he was sick, but I haven't seen him in a week.'_

Michelle paused and frowned. She even hesitated before responding.

 _mj (8:53 am): What's he sick with?_

Ned responded in less than a second.

 _ned (8:53 am): don't know. May told me it could be stomach flu or strep, but she also gets worried if Peter has a ninety-nine degree fever…_

 _ned (8:53 am): so, I dunno ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯_

MJ sighed. ' _Well_ ,' she replied. ' _Thanks_ _for_ _the_ _help_ , _nerd_.'

* * *

She sends him a few texts in the middle of the English.

 _mj (10:25 am): Hey nerd. You feeling any better yet?_

 _mj (10:32 am): Mr. Castello's asking where you are._

 _mj (10:32 am): What should I tell him?_

 _mj (10:32 am): should i tell him you're sick?_

 _mj (10:33 am): or that you got kidnapped and turned into a science experiment?_

 _mj (10:48 am): Hello?_

 _mj (10:48 am): Peter?_

 _mj (11:10 am): …Peter?_

* * *

"Hey," she says, as she sits down at their lunch table. "I know the nerd's sick and stuff, but has he been responding to any of your texts? Like, at all?"

"Uh, nope," Ned says, as he checks his phone. "But, to be fair, if he's sick or something, May's probably keeping him off his phone while he gets some rest. You know how she is, right?"

Michelle doesn't respond. Instead, she only lets out a quiet "Mhmm," before she digs into her egg salad sandwich.

* * *

The next time someone texts her, she thinks it's Peter. Hell, she wants to believe it's Peter. But, if there's anything she's learned in this world, it's that it's not good to have expectations because they just get shattered.

And, unfortunately, it's not him.

 _cindy (12:20 pm): Hey MJ? Is it possible we can maybe cancel decathlon practice?_

She takes her time responding.

 _mj (1:37 pm): Why? You losers got something better to do? 'Cause, you know, if you sign up for something, you're supposed to stick with it._

 _cindy (1:37 pm): Yeah, we know, we know. It's just that, Flash and I were thinking.._

 _mj (1:42 pm): Flash? Thinking? Well, that's surprising._

 _cindy (1:42 pm): Yeah, I know, right? But, anyway, Flash and I were thinking and… do you think we could maybe just take a day off?_

 _cindy (1:42pm): 'Cause we all know that this is really important to you and stuff, but we're all kinda stressed and tired, and the rest of the team agrees._

 _cindy (1:43 pm) But, you know, if we can't, it's totally fine. Abraham and Flash just wanted me to ask._

 _cindy (1:47 pm): So…?_

MJ sighs. She's never canceled a practice, not once in her entire life. But, she also hasn't cried that much either, so she guesses things are beginning to change.

 _'Yeah,'_ she texts back. _'We can cancel decathlon practice.'_

* * *

She doesn't figure it out until that night.

"Michelle," she says aloud as she reads a text from Ned. "Turns on channel seven."

She rolls her eyes. Ned's always been trying to get her to watch these weird Star Wars shows and science documentaries whenever they're on, but she'd always thought he'd stop. But now that he tells her to turn on the news, when this can't have to do with anything besides science and Star Wars? Well, she's getting sick of it.

But, when she turns on channel seven, the news isn't reporting on any new scientific discovery, or any new Star Wars theory. Instead, they're reporting on Peter.

 _Peter._

 _Peter._

 _Peter._

And, almost instantly, she turns the volume on.

* * *

"Hey MJ?" There's a knock on her door that she can barely hear between her sobs and the volume from the TV. "You in there?"

"Hmm? Yeah. Sorry," she apologizes, as she wipes the tears from her face and tries to control her breathing. Walking over to the door, she opens it, and tries to look as strong as she can while she comes face-to-face with her brother. "Sorry, Jax. What's up?"

If he see the tears streaming down her cheeks (which he should, because he's not blind), he doesn't say anything. "My… friend, Felicia, texted me," he says, slowly. "Apparently, your friend, Peter, or whatever, is on TV, if you wanna see it. Channel seven."

She smiles sadly, with her mouth closed. "Thanks," she says, her voice just barely above a whisper. "I'll… I'll check it out."

But when Jax leaves, she doesn't turn on the TV, because it's already on. Instead, Michelle flops on her bed and turns the volume up, while she rewinds the show to the moment the reporter first started talking.

"Meanwhile, in other news," she say, her voice monotone, "a seventeen year old teenager named Peter Parker from Queens has gone missing. City cameras show that the victim was last seen on Wednesday afternoon—"

 _Two days ago._

"—Near his home in the Forest Hills neighbourhood. Unnamed sources—"

 _May_. 'His aunt,' Michelle thinks. 'May.'

"—Say he was a well-behaved boy who often snuck out at night, but barely got into trouble. A search by civilians and the NYPD has been conducted in the Forest Hills area, but no discoveries have been made as of yet. If anyone has, or has been withholding, any information, however, that may lead to a spark in this investigation, they are currently being asked to come forward, whether they want to be anonymous or not."

The man beside the reporter smiled. "Thank you, Janet," he spoke, cheerfully, as he looked into the camera. "Now, we'll be taking a short break, but stay tuned after these commercials to hear about Hurricane Katrina in Colorado, and the latest Spider-Man theories, about the superhero's absence, that are breaking the internet. I mean, after all, isn't that what all the kids say these days?"

The reporter beside him smiled and laughed. "Oh!" she agreed, happily. "It sure is, David!"

* * *

He isn't found until another three weeks.

She remembers the day she got the news. It was like any other, with sun pouring down New York (or, more particularly, Queens) as she walked the flower-lined streets. But, while it wasn't exactly the weather she had wanted, considering it was contrasting with her dark and depressing mood, she wasn't someone who felt like complaining today. And, at the very least, it didn't get her library books wet.

She, unlike most mornings before it happened, arrived early that day. She had arrived fifteen minutes before the bell went off and, in response, her teacher had shot her a bright smile and an amusing "I'm happy to see you arriving early for once, Michelle," but she had waved them off as she opened her book and started to read. She had better things to do, anyway. The first book's title read 'The War of the Worlds' and the second one read 'Fahrenheit 451.' Both of them were (or, rather, used to be, before he was _taken_ ) Peter's favourite.

She had stopped reading as soon as the bell rang, seeing as her teacher liked to start their lessons the moment school started. So, since twenty-five out of the thirty students they usually taught had arrived on time, they started their Chemistry lesson.

They were learning about gases and the kinetic molecular theory when she got the text halfway through class.

 _ned (9:27 am): michelle_

 _ned (9:27 am): the cops_

 _ned (9:28 am): they found peter._

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Comments are appreciated, as well as criticism, but please be nice! I'll try to post chapter two soon!**

 **-TheeBlackSapphire :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**New chapter! I feel like this is way shorter than the last one, but the program I'm using says its longer, so... maybe that's just me? Anyway, enjoy! And happy New Years', everyone! :)**

 **(Also, I'm posting this at like 4 am and, like Tony Stark probably would've done, pulled yet another all-nighter to work on this. So, excuse any typos.)**

* * *

It takes about an entire hour and forty five minutes for them to get to the Avengers' compound upstate. Add that in with the half an hour it took for May to convince the school to let her take them, and the five minutes it took for each of them to get their things (turns out, Ned gets a lot more homework than her), and it's been two hours since Peter was found. Hell, it's been past that. But, when she gets to the compound, she couldn't be happier.

Peter's in a new room, a way bigger version of the one that he used to have, that used to be right beside Vision, but he's also stuck in a hospital bed and, not only that, but a medically-induced coma as well. It's not totally unusual or uncommon, the doctors explain, considering that he's extremely malnourished, severely dehydrated, and seriously sick, but he's not breathing properly and the doctors have to put him on a ventilator because of it.

Days pass, and so does week after week, but it doesn't seem like they're getting anywhere. It doesn't seem like he, like Peter's, getting anywhere, as he's stuck in an ocean of unconsciousness. But, when it hits the third week, things seem like they're gonna change for the better.

The day starts off like the day he was found: full of sunshine and light. She makes it to class early again, and the teacher says the exact same thing they always do: "Nice to see you today, Michelle. I'm happy you have decided to arrive early, for once." Then, they write equations on the board, as everybody else begins to take out their phones, and she gets the text halfway through class.

 _may (9:27 am): Peter's awake_

* * *

It takes another hour, like it usually does, but this time Happy cuts off manages to cut off thirty-minutes by speeding through the streets and using the "I'm Pepper Potts' bodyguard and driver. If you have a problem, then you can take it up with her" excuse when he gets pulled over (which, is about five times). But, they still manage to make it there faster than they did last time, so MJ figures a thank-you is the least she can do.

Peter's still in the same room, the same one she saw him in just three days ago, when she visited for the weekend, and he's still in a hospital bed, but at least, now, he's not on a ventilator. Instead, he has on a nasal cannula, and is talking to May, who's by his side, when she arrives at the door.

"Hey, nerd," she says with a smile. "How you doing?"

* * *

Turns out, along with still having strep throat (so he can't talk at all), Peter also has a torn Achilles' tendon. But, unfortunately while it'd take a normal person a little more than four to five months to recover, it's gonna take Peter three—which isn't very bad, but it's also not very good, and Michelle supposes it makes sense with how long the injury had went untreated and with how much it had worsened.

She visits him at least three times a week (once on Mondays, once on Wednesdays, and then always on Fridays, 'cause it's the weekend). After the first one, when it's been about a week since he woke up, and four weeks since he fell comatose, he's taken off the nasal cannula and Michelle can't help but give him a small, close-mouthed smile when she seems him without it. He may not be recovering at the pace she or May wants him to be, but at least he's recovering.

The second week she visits him, they're watching a movie in his room. It's 'Aliens', Peter's favourite. They're about halfway through the movie, at the part where the Marines find the colonists cocooned and serving as incubators for the creatures' offspring, when she sneaks a glance at him. He's been on penicillin for his strep throat for the past two weeks and, even though his throat is a little better, thanks to all the medicine and milkshakes May's been bringing him, it's still a little sore. But, despite that, it's still the best sound she has ever heard in the entire world.

"What?" he asks, when she looks at him. His voice still sounds all scratchy and hoarse, like someone dragging their nails across a chalkboard, and his skin is still a little pale, thanks to the extreme dehydration and severe undernourishment, but, to Michelle? He couldn't be doing any better.

"Nothing," she whispers in his ear, as he pulls her closer with the arm that isn't being infiltrated with an IV. "You're just… really stupid, you know? Going and getting yourself kidnapped like that."

She expects him to be offended. Exasperated, almost. But, he isn't. Instead, he's the exact opposite. "I'm sorry, what?" he asks, incredulously.

She nods. "Yeah, you heard me," she replies, as she turns on her side, and rests her head on his shoulder. "Getting yourself kidnapped," she continues. "Stupidest decision ever."

In response, Peter grabs the remote that controls the TV from the side of his hospital bed, and pauses the movie. "Okay," he laughs. "Well, maybe you should see what it's like the next time you get kidnapped."

"Next time?" she asks, curiously. "When was the first?"

Peter shoots her a knowing look, despite how tired his eyes are.

"Mysterio?" he recalls. "Europe? I thought we named it 'The European Field Trip Accident of 2018'?"

Michelle hums. "Yeah," she agrees. "We really gotta come up with better names for our adventures."

"Not my point, but okay," Peter says, as he smiles for what seems like the first time in forever. "Just promise not to let Ned do all the naming?"

Michelle wraps her pinky around his. Then, sitting up a bit straighter, she plants a small kiss on his head before resuming her previous position. "Promise," she agrees. "Now get some sleep, Spider-Man."

* * *

Halfway through the third week, when she's visiting on Monday, May finally brings up the news they've all been dreading to hear: that, although the cops have gathered up some suspects, Peter needs to be able to identity them in a lineup, before they're actually able to point fingers and accuse anyone of kidnapping him.

"I know it's not ideal," May says, softly, as she runs a hand through her nephew's little messy curls. She's sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, while Michelle sits near the end and, although she tries not to eavesdrop, she can't help it; she's an observant person. "But it's been two months, sweetie. And I tried to put this off because I know you've been really sick recently, and I want you to take your time to get better and rest, but we can't put this off forever. We can't avoid this forever."

Peter looks like he's about to cry. She can't blame him, she would too if someone told her that she had to identity her kidnappers in a lineup while she's still recovering. And that's a pretty big thing, considering that she never cries, ever.

But, Peter doesn't respond though, so she does. "What day?" She asks, slowly, her voice just barely above a whisper. "What time?"

May looks at her, from where she's comforting Peter, but if she's confused, or annoyed, she doesn't show it. "Saturday," she says. "At one o'clock. I go back to work on the same day."

"I'm not doing anything Saturday," MJ states, which is a complete lie. She actually is—she's supposed to help Jax study for his test on the behavioural studies of plants and animals, and she's supposed to work on an art project that same day as well. But, if Peter needs her, she's sure she can get out of it. Or, at the very least, procrastinate and push it aside till later. "I can take him," she offers.

May sighs and shakes her head. "You've done so much for us already, Michelle. There's no way I could ask you to do that."

"But you're not asking me," she insists, her tone even and calm. "I'm offering."

May's about to open her mouth and speak, but Peter beats her to it and does so instead. "It's fine, May," he reassures her, though his voice sounds like it's just on the edge of breaking. "You've been with me for the past six weeks, and you need to go back to work eventually. Besides, we need the money, and I can handle myself on my own."

"Maybe at home you can," May snaps back, though her tone isn't as annoyed or infuriated as the time she found out he was Spider-Man. "But I'm not sending you to a police lineup, Peter. Not on your own."

"Ned and I can take him," Michelle suggests again. "The police station is about a thirty minute drive from your guys' apartment, right? So Ned and I will need Pepper or Happy to take us, but—"

"It's forty-five, actually," May cuts in. "The police station near us isn't a good one, so I specifically requested that it takes place at one that's not too far away from us, but not too close either."

Michelle's about to ask why, when she gets it. Obviously, if the kidnappers took Peter from an alley near his apartment or something, he'd want them to stay as far away from him, and May, as possible. Plus, not only that, but if they remember his address and attack again, then at least it'll take longer for them to escape their jail cell and get there. It'll give him and May more time to avoid them. More time to pack their things and leave, if they have to. And, if not that, then it'll give Peter more time to prepare before he's lying on his deathbed.

'Oh, God,' she thinks. The thought makes her want to throw up.

"Make sense," she says instead, her shoulders softly springing up and down as she shrugs. "But, really," she continues, "if you have to go to work, May, it's fine. Ned and I can take him. And I'm sure Pepper won't mind driving us there." She looks towards the ceiling for extra effect. "Right, Friday?"

If an AI could hum, it seems that Friday's doing it. "Exactly right," she replies in her Irish accent. "I have checked Ms. Potts' calendar, and it seems like she has no plans on the day mentioned, so she should be happy to take the three of you down to the police station."

"See?" Michelle states, with a closed-mouth smile. "So since Pepper doesn't seem to have any plans, she should be happy to take us. Ned and I can meet Peter at his apartment, and Pepper can pick us up and drive us to the police station."

May looks unsure, but considers it anyway, before she looks to Peter for an answer. "And you're okay with this?" she questions, quietly. "You'll be fine without me, sweetie?"

Peter, with his eyes practically half-closed, looks tired and sleepy, but answers her anyway. "Yes, May," he expresses. His voice still sounds hoarse and it's still barely above a whisper, but Michelle has no doubt that he's getting better. "I'll be fine," he says. "I promise."

May smiles, as she sits up a little straighter, and presses a small kiss to Peter's overgrown hair. It's kinda long, and so dirty that he probably needs a shower, but she doesn't care. He's her nephew, and she's his aunt, so she loves him anyway.

"I hope so," she agrees, as she watches her nephew fall asleep.

* * *

 **Next chapter will be posted when the one after it is written! Thanks for reading, and comments are appreciated!**

 **-TheeBlackSapphire :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, so... apparently this is like, the longest chapter ever? But i also happen to think it's the worst, so? Whatever, I guess? I hope you all enjoy it?**

* * *

It's the end of the third week when she sees him again, and, on Saturday, it's bright and sunny. It's just like the day they discovered he had been kidnapped, and they day they realized he had been found, and it instantly brings back a tornado of emotions. But, today isn't for her, she reminds herself. Today is for Peter. Spider-Man, her best friend, and her boyfriend. Her _broken_ boyfriend.

Nonetheless, though, the day starts off as a decent one. Her dad heads off for work and Jax understands that she can't help him study, so he goes to Felicia Hardy, his friend, for help, instead. It's kind of depressing, considering they haven't really hung out that much lately and she kind of misses him, but whatever. She has Peter. She has Ned. She has her friends.

But, like planned, Pepper picks them up. She comes around noon, about an hour early, but she supposes that's a good thing and offers a quick "Hey, Granger," before hopping inside and closing the car door.

Ned's next. Like usual, he's late, so they have to wait an extra fifteen minutes before he actually walks out the door. And, when he finally does, like always, he's as happy as a clam. In fact, he even bounces into the car with an excited "Hey Michelle!" before he puts on his seatbelt.

Peter's the last one they have to pick up, but, when they get to his apartment, Pepper parks right outside. They wait a while. Five minutes, at first. But, then, it turns into ten, and after another five minutes passes, it's fifteen. By the time Pepper decides to pull out her phone like Ned, it's twenty.

"Uh, Ms. Potts?" Ned asks, as he taps the woman awkwardly on the shoulder. "Should— Do you think I should go check on Peter?" he questions. "Like, you know? Just in case?"

"Sure." Pepper offers a smile in reply, as she glances at the two through the interior mirror. "Go ahead, Ned. Take your time. You got my number in case you need me, right?"

"Yeah, definitely!" Ned says with a smile. "Thank—uh, thank you, Ma'am. I'll be right back!"

The opening and closing of the car takes no longer than a second and, within less than half a minute, she can see Ned racing toward the apartment. It's kind of amusing, if she's being honest. But, it still doesn't make her smile, because there's only one thing that does, and that's Peter.

Pepper sighs in the middle of the silence. It doesn't seem like she's mad, though. Or even annoyed or angry. Instead, as she whispers an "I hope he's okay," it just seems kind of sad.

'Yeah,' Michelle only thinks. 'Me too.'

* * *

Ned's been to Peter's apartment tons of times. Really, it kind of goes unsaid, considering they're best friends. He came over when they met when they were seven, he came over after Peter got seriously sick with the spider-bite, and he came over when Ben died. But, something was different this time. This time, it doesn't feel homey. This time, it doesn't feel comfortable. This time, it doesn't feel right.

This time? This time something feels different.

"Peter?" Ned calls hesitantly, as he steps into the room. A smell of cinnamon flies through the air, and the place is nice and cozy, and heated. But that doesn't mean Ned doesn't suspect something.

He can't remember the last time he'd been over to Peter's, but the apartment looks the same as it always does. The couch is worn-out, and it has pillows and blankets placed over it. The coffee table has magazines on it. The fridge is probably empty, considering May hasn't gone shopping in who-knows-how-long, but the cabinets are more than likely stocked. And there's probably some hot chocolate mix and a kettle somewhere if you know where to look.

The place is dimly lit, enough for someone with their senses dialled to eleven to be able to see. However, Ned can't do that. He's not a superhero. He's just a normal kid. So, instead of trying to get his eyes to adjust, he feels for a light switch.

And that's when he hears it.

"Peter?" He calls again, this time more quietly, as he follows the almost-silent sound of sobs. He's next to his bedroom door and he's trying to feel for the doorknob, but it's locked. "Dude? Are you okay?"

There's a sob. Then some sniffling and a shuddering breath before the door is unlocked. Peter's standing across from him, and, even though he's his best friend and he's seen him at some of his worst times ever, Ned can't ever remember seeing him as terrible as this. There's bags under his eyes, his face is pale, and, there are distant tears on his cheeks. Forget terrible, Ned thinks. Peter looks like he just went to hell and back.

"Yeah." Peter finally speaks, but when he does, his voice sounds like it's on the edge of breaking. "S-Sorry, I… lost track of time. Michelle and Pepper are outside, right?"

Ned sighs, but doesn't question it. "Yeah," he replies instead. "They're outside. Are you ready to head down, man?"

* * *

It turns out that, when they get there, the police station is like one of those cliché ones you see on TV. It has large, grey brick walls, revolving doors that are made out of glass, a wheelchair ramp, about three (short) flights of stairs, and, not only that, but a big golden sign that says "QUEENS – PD." But, although the outside is intimidating, Michelle's quick to assure Peter that the people inside aren't, considering her dad's a lawyer and has met with them too many times to count.

"You sure you're gonna be okay in there, Pete?" Pepper asks, as she drops them off. Her and Ned have already gotten out of the car and are waiting outside of it for Peter with his crutches, having their own small conversation on Star Wars, while the superhero himself talks to the CEO of Stark Industries. But, Pepper, although she's trying to be quiet, is still talking loud enough to listen in without even accidentally doing it or meaning to, so she does.

"Yeah," Peter replies. A little over forty-five minutes ago, when they went to pick him up, tears were streaming down his cheeks. But, now, they've disappeared like they weren't even there, and his voice is less on edge, as well. "I'll be okay, Miss Potts, I promise. We're only gonna be in there for like, ten minutes, anyway."

"And you're sure?" And, at this, when Pepper actually turns around in her seat, Michelle can actually see how kind and concerned she is, and how parental she acts toward Peter. Not that Ms. Potts isn't kind or doesn't have any emotion or anything (she's one of the most badass people in the entire world, and Michelle admires her _so much_ ), but she's been kind of secretive and stoic ever since Tony, so it's fair to say that Michelle's actually surprised for once.

"Yes, Miss Potts," Peter emphasizes and, for once, Michelle can actually see a glimpse of him, of the person he used to be before he was taken, and kidnapped, and placed in a coma for three weeks. "I'll be fine, oh my God…"

"Okay, okay," Pepper says, as she finally lets up. She doesn't turn around, though. Instead, she stays in her place, eyes glued to the floor of the car, before she finally, briefly, meets Peter's. "You… call me if you need something, alright?" She states, slowly. "I'm just going to be in the bookstore across the street, but I made sure to give Ned my number in case of any emergencies, or in case something goes wrong."

Peter nods. "I know, Miss Potts."

Pepper, however, just shakes her head. Her voice is quiet albeit truthful and honest. "I don't think you do, Peter. You were kidnapped. You were taken, ripped apart, from us, from everyone, for three weeks, and now you have to identity this guy. And I know you like acting like you're invincible—" The words _'just like Tony'_ go unsaid. "—But you're not; you're human, and you have feelings and emotions. And, because of that, I want you to call me if something goes wrong, okay? You're aunt—" _Or Tony._ "—Isn't here right now, but she—" _They._ "—Trusted me to take care of, and to look out for you, so that's what I'm going to do."

And, after that, as Ned's talking gets louder and as the cars on the road brush past them at a pace she can't even describe, the rest of the conversation goes unintelligible to her. But, fortunately, it looks like things have gone well and that she doesn't need to hear any more of it, as Pepper and Peter do a quick little handshake of their own, before the superhero grabs his phone and starts to slide out of the car.

"Ned?" He calls, quietly, but she can see that the words seem, taste, foreign in his own mouth. "My crutches, man?"

Ned, in response, turns around and races back to Peter so fast she swears that he resembles The Flash (and that's pretty good, considering that the boy's getting a C in PE). "Oh, yeah!" He exclaims, as he smiles sheepishly and hands Peter the props he needs to walk. "Sorry," He apologizes.

"It's fine," Peter replies, slowly rising from his spot as he waves it off. It's his first time with crutches, having just left the compound yesterday in a wheelchair, so, understandably, he stumbles a bit when he first stands up, before Ned manages to steady him with a hand to his back. 'Or, maybe,' Michelle thinks, 'that's just from nervousness.' "Let's just head inside, alright?

* * *

When Peter was younger, May often brought him to corn mazes during the fall season.

It was one of those rare things that they could do together, without having to worry about how much money they were spending, because it was always cheap. And because there was always one in Queens, they were always able to go.

He can remember it like it was yesterday. The leaves were soft, not yet rotten and ugly and brown, but beautiful colours of green, and yellow, and red. Mud gathered on their shoes as they walked, going through the maze dozens of times, trying to figure out where to go, trying to decipher the right turns that would lead them to the exit, rather than the wrong ones.

Peter supposes that this is like that, now.

Except that there's no corn, and there's no leaves, and there's no sense of security inside of him. The hallway is like a maze, as they make their way for him to identity his captor (in the what? The suspecting room? His Uncle Ben used to work at a police station as a police officer, but he never really went there or visited him too often, himself. He misses that now), but that's the only thing that similar to him.

There's an officer in front of him, and a guard behind him, and Ned, who's right beside him and trying to distract him by rambling on about Star Wars and the awesome movie marathon they're going to have after this entire thing is over, but it's not working. Peter still feels anxious, apprehensive, and antsy, and can't help but notice the light layer of sweat on his forehead.

There were so many ways this could've gone wrong, after all. Like… what if he identified the wrong person? Or what if his captor wasn't in the line-up of suspects? It'd be bad if he identified the wrong person and sent an innocent man to jail, but it'd be even worse if his attacker wasn't even there. That meant they could go after him, again. That meant they could hurt him. That meant they could hurt May.

He couldn't let them do that.

Unfortunately, though, Peter didn't have any time to think about it anymore because, before he could, the guard behind them had left to monitor the suspects, while the officer had finally came to a stop and lead them into a room with a one-way glass window.

"This is where you're going to identify your attacker," the man explains, slowly. "Officer Romero is going to bring in all the suspects, all at once, but we're going to have one guard in the room with them, and one guard waiting for them outside. That way, they won't be able to try anything, okay?"

Peter nods. His throat feels dry and sore, but maybe that's just from the panic that's raging inside of him. "Okay," he whispers in response.

"Alright." The officer —Mr. Daniel DeWolff, Ned learns from the name on his tag— smiles politely before continuing on with his reassurances. "We're going to start in a few minutes, kid, but just tell us if you need a break, okay? Otherwise, things'll be over before you know it."

Peter nods and smiles, though the action feels unnatural on him. Briefly, he wonders if he's as transparent as he thinks he is, and wonders if they— Ned and the man— know that his smile is as fake as his happiness.

But, he pushes the thought aside and snaps back to the reality, the present that he's living in. "Thanks," he says, instead. "I'm sure they will."

* * *

"Number two," Peter insisted, his eyes filling with tears as he swallowed harshly and stared back at the man who stood on the other side of the glass. He couldn't have been older than twenty-five and even though there was something distinct familiar about him, Peter, as the man's icy eyes bored into his own, couldn't place it. Maybe he'd seen him on a street in Queens? "I-It's number two..."

"And you're sure it was him?" Officer DeWolff asked, from his spot beside the boy. "You're absolutely positive, kid?"

Opening his mouth, Peter had the intention to respond and elaborate. However, it seemed like his voice didn't want to work, as all that came out of his mouth was a wet sob and harsh choking noise, before he looked down and one of his crutches clattered to the ground.

"Peter?" Ned questioned quietly, as he hovered in front of his best friend, so he couldn't see into the room across from them. "Hey. Can you hear me, Pete?"

"Don't touch me," Peter replied, as Ned laid a hand on his shoulder. "Just... d-don't touch me, please."

"Okay," Ned agreed, as he took his hand off the boy's shoulder. "I'm not going to touch you, dude. But can you please tell me what's wrong and what's going on while I ask an officer to get you some water?"

"N-No," Peter said as he shook his head. Dropping his other crutch beside him, the boy had then fallen and pushed himself until his back was resting against the wall and until he was holding his head in his hands. "I—I can't, Ned, I can't. I can't do this, I can't send someone who's innocent to jail..."

"But you didn't," Ned protested, as he took a seat beside his best friend and gently put his hand on his uninjured leg. "I wasn't supposed to tell you this, Peter, but I overheard two cops talking, and that's the guy they initially arrested in connection with the attack. He's in college and his name is Steven Westcott, but apparently everyone calls him Skip. That's what I've heard, anyway."

Peter sniffled. "S-Skip?"

"Yeah." Ned nodded before standing up and offering his hand to Peter. "I'm gonna go get your crutches, but are you ready to go after that? Because I can text Pepper and Michelle, and you know they'll be here in, like, an instant."

Peter nodded, his voice quiet. "Yeah," he spoke, slowly. "I wanna go home."

* * *

It turns out that, when they get there, the police station is not like one of those cliches you see on TV. Yes, it has large, grey brick walls, revolving doors that are made out of glass, a wheelchair ramp, about three (short) flights of stairs, and a big golden sign that says "QUEENS – PD," but it's more intimidating now. More terrifying. More, dare she say, depressing.

However, maybe that's just because her boyfriend does, too. As Peter walks (or, rather, stumbles, because he's still getting used to his crutches) down the stairs of the station, she spots the distant tears on his cheeks, and anxiety in his eyes, and immediately grows worried. 'What happened in there?' she thinks to herself. Whatever it is, though, she knows it can't be any good.

But, instead of giving in to her ever-growing curiosity and asking the two about it, because she's sure Peter (and Ned) has gone through enough, she stalls and asks if everything's okay. It's not really that hard, to be honest, considering that she had to do it for Peter, during the Infinity War, when decided to climb aboard a spaceship with Tony Stark. Plus, she's done it for most of her life. She's used to it, and she's good at it; she's practically an expert by now.

"Hey," she says instead, as she meets them at the bottom at the stairs. Watching as Ned takes Peter's crutches from him, she grabs the superhero's arm and tosses it over her own shoulder, so that Peter's leaning against her side, before they both turn back to the black-haired boy. "How'd it go in there?" She questions, making sure to word her words carefully. "Everything okay?"

Ned's about to open his mouth and speak, when Peter beats him to it and does so instead. "Yeah," he replies, despite his voice being a bit quiet, and a bit breathless, as well. "Eveything's okay, MJ. They—They caught the guy who—who kidnapped me, and they're gonna send him to prison. Can we maybe get out of here now?"

Michelle bites her lip, and stares at him for a while. It's obvious that Peter's putting up a façade, obviously trying to act and convince her that he's okay, when he isn't. His skin is still pale, although it's better than before. His speech is shaky. There's fear in his eyes. He looks terrified.

"Yeah," she eventually decides. "I'll text Pepper, and then we can leave, Peter."

* * *

 **Last chapter should be posted soon. I'm gonna go to bed. Goodnight!**

 **-TheeBlackSapphire :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Last chapter! I'm really proud of this one, since it shows how far we've come, so I hope you all like it!**

 **Special thanks goes to Brentinator, Gummybear1178, and Glittercat33, as well as to everyone who left a review, followed, favourited, or just read this fic. I was actually very insecure about my writing when I first posted this (and I still am), so it actually means a lot to me.**

 **Lastly, a little note: in the comics, Peter Parker does have a high school and college professor who's names are Raymond and Miles Warren. I know the Warren they have in Homecoming is a female teacher, but I really wanted to do something different, so the character who goes by "Mx. Warren" in this story does not prefer to identity themselves as male or female, so they have they/them pronouns instead. Just thought I'd let you all know.**

 **Enjoy! ;)**

* * *

The ride back from the station is way more uneventful than the drive they took there.

She tries asking what happened, but none of the boys are interested in talking about it, so she supposes that's fine. She'd still like to know, though.

She talks about Star Wars, and their upcoming English essay with Ned, but she's not as focused on the conversation as she is on Peter. He's been quiet, barely saying more than four sentences after they left the precinct, and he looks outright exhausted. To make matters worse, he keeps on doing that thing where his eyes close, and he almost slips out of his seatbelt, before he stops it at the last second, and sits upright again. If she wasn't worried before, well, she is now.

It happens for another fifth, sixth, and seventh time, before she finally decides to do something.

"Hold on for a second," she says to Ned. Seeing as the teenager stops talking and gives her a minute, she takes her chance, turns to Peter, and wraps a hand around his back when he's about to fall again. He's a bit lighter than usual, but she just assumes that he's lost some weight from the malnutrition and dehydration. The doctors did say that it wasn't totally unusual or uncommon, after all.

But, brushing that aside, she goes back to helping him, and leads him to land his head on her thighs. It takes a while, but, after running her fingers through his hair a few times, it seems that he's finally relaxed and fallen asleep; which is good, she supposes, because he looks like he really needs it, and because the doctors at the compound said he needed as much rest as he could get.

"So," she says, as she turns back to Ned, "what were you saying, again?"

* * *

She remembers the days when Peter didn't show up to school. They were like any other, with the sun pouring down New York, as she walked the flower-lined streets of Queens. Her teacher, seeing that she hadn't come in as early, but also that she hadn't came in as late, either, smiled at her, brightly. "Michelle!" they exclaimed. "It's nice to see you today. How has Peter been doing?"

The girl herself frowned. Even though Peter wasn't doing or feeling too good when they went to the police station on the weekend, she would've at least thought that he'd be in school. Especially considering that that had been three days ago, and that it was now Tuesday. "Fine." She smiled. "He's doing really good, Mx. Warren. Recovering nicely."

"Well, that's really great, Michelle. Do you know when he'll be back in class, perhaps? He has an awfully lot of work to catch up on."

Michelle shook her head. "Sorry. It'll probably be a while before he's back in class. But I can drop his papers off, if you want."

Mx. Warren nodded, as they opened a binder and seemed to be organizing something on their desk. "That'd be excellent, Michelle," they said. "Just let me organize all of the work he missed, and I'll give it to you at the end of class, alright? And make sure you give Mr. Parker my regards."

Michelle nodded, as she took a seat at her desk at the back of the class. She always liked the area because it was good for people-watching and observing her fellow classmates as well, but that was back when Peter didn't get kidnapped; back when he used to sit two rows up; back when they used to exchange glances in class. Now, though? It just seems kind of dreary and dull.

"Thanks," she replies, rather than speaking what's on her mind. "I will."

* * *

"Hey," she says, as she approaches their lunch table in the middle of the cafeteria. Usually they'd sit outside, or in an empty classroom, considering the cafeteria is way too loud and crowded (especially for Peter's sensory overloads), but it's raining. And they both kinda feel like going for the comfort food in the caf, rather than walking to the Dairy Queen down the street. "How's it going, Leeds? You got any texts from Pete?"

"Nah." Ned shakes his head, before he decides to bite into his apple. "But I kinda figured he wouldn't be coming today, after what happened at my place on Saturday."

This sparks her attention. This grabs her interest. "What?" She questions, quietly. "Why? What happened?"

"He didn't tell you?" Ned asks, and she shakes her head.

"No," she replies, her tone more demanding this time. "Why? _What happened?_ "

Ned takes out his phone, and, as she leans forward, she can see him open his 'Messages' section. "I don't know," he responds, truthfully. "But he woke up with a migraine after our movie marathon, and I ended up having to call May, since he couldn't even sit up without thinking he was gonna be sick."

Michelle scrolls through the texts, as she looks at Ned. "And this was on Saturday?" She inquires. "What time?"

"Dunno," Ned says, as he shrugs and takes another bite of his apple. "Four? Four thirty? But I'm not really that surprised, you know, considering that Peter only gets migraines when he's sick, or stressed, or sleep-deprived."

Michelle hums in agreement, but she's barely listening as she continues going through Ned's 'Messages' section. The conversation goes through one ear, and out of the other, and she can't even bring herself to control or care about it, because she doesn't. She's too worried to, and you can sue her if you think she's been doing that a lot lately.

But, she still answers, even if it's only to please Ned, since he's still waiting for a response. "Yeah," she replies, her eyes inattentive. "Okay."

* * *

The walk to Peter's house is about fifteen minutes away from Midtown, if not more. It's not too far, but it's also not to close, and Michelle figures it's perfect. The perfect distance; and the perfect time to reminisce on her thoughts, and worry about Peter.

She knows, logically, that she shouldn't be worried, but she can't help it. The best case scenario is that May just allowed him to skip another day of school, and the worst case scenario is that he's deteriorating and that his mental (and physical) health has basically dropped to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. But, still, she knows that Peter is strong, so she shouldn't be that worried, right?

Either way, she drops it after about ten minutes, and focuses on the scenery for the remainder of the walk. The sky above her is a beautiful shade of blue and, of that, looks similar to the wings of a blue morpho butterfly, if it's just a bit paler than the actual insect. The sidewalk ahead of her and the street beside her is insane, with cars driving by at an unbelievable pace. 'It's like they're going so fast,' she thinks, 'that you can't even see them.'

The people on the sidewalk are all different, all of them unique, and none of them looking quite the same as anyone she's seen before. She passes a little girl with blonde hair and blue eyes, remembering that she used to live in another apartment building a few doors down. She passes a man with a leather jacket, a well-shaved beard, and a guitar strapped to his back. She figures he must be in a hurry, judging by the way he's running.

She does this to several people she passes; observing them, and analyzing them. It's quite fun, but also really distracting, and she doesn't even realize she's passed Peter's apartment building until she stops in front of a nearby Starbucks.

"Peter?" She calls, as she lets herself into the Parker's apartment. The door was unlocked, and she's slightly suspicious, but she brushes it aside as she takes in the cozy home. "Are you in here?" She questions, her voice so silent she almost can't hear it herself.

He doesn't answer. Not that she expects him to if he's sick, sleep-deprived, or stressed, and resting. But, his bedroom door's open when she comes across it, so she figures it obviously can't be that bad.

"Peter?" She asks again, as she enters. Seeing as her boyfriend's tiredly lying on his side and playing on his phone to avoid his exhaustion, she smiles. "Hey. You doing okay?"

And, upon hearing her voice call out to him, Peter does the same, and smiles as he sets his phone on his nightstand. "Hey," He replies, as he turns onto his back so she can see him clearly, once she sits on the edge of his bed. "Yeah, um, I'm doing okay. Why—Why do you ask?"

Michelle shrugs, her shoulders salient, as she shrugs off her backpack and places it on the ground below, before seating herself at the edge of the bed. "Just thought I would," she responds, as she glances around the room they're in. The walls are a nice powdery blue and, beside his bed, on his nightstand, she can see a water bottle, washcloth, and thermometer, and distantly wonders if he really is sick. After all, Ned wouldn't lie to her… would he?

"And you're feeling better?" She asks, as she snaps out of her trance, and decides to make direct eye contact with him. Be bold, her dad always tells her. And what a better time to be bold than now?

"Mostly," Peter says, as he shrugs and plays with the duvet between his fingertips. "I just had a migraine the other day when I went to Ned's, so May wanted to keep me home today. Said she was worried when I threw up and came down with a fever last night. You know what she's like, right?"

The girl didn't respond and, instead just let out a quiet hum, like that one time during that one day, when she was eating an egg-salad sandwich while her and Ned discussed Peter's disappearance. "Yeah," she finally seemed to agree. "Is that also why you haven't been at school recently?"

"Not really," Peter admitted, as he glanced down at his hand in order to avoid eye contact with her. "Guess I'm just scared."

Raising an eyebrow, Michelle shot her boyfriend a confused, and somewhat concerned, look, as she put her hand on his ankle while making sure to be careful with his left leg (which still had a medical boot on it, since it was still healing from the worsened injury and surgery, and would be for a while). "What are you scared of, exactly?" she asked. "I mean, obviously not everything, but what will happen if you go to school again? You know, other than Flash being an asshole."

Peter sighed, still refusing to meet her gaze. "Maybe someone else will take me... that maybe he'll take me again..." At that point, she could tell he was starting to cry, and maybe that was why he wouldn't meet her gaze; because he felt ashamed that he couldn't protect himself the first time, and was afraid that it'd happen again as well.

"Peter..." She trailed off, and noticed that when he did finally look up at her, that tears were indeed in his eyes, threatening to spill over on the blankets. "As much as I want to comfort you, tell you everything is gonna be okay, that we'll wait for you, you know you have to come back to school. Life isn't gonna stop just 'cause you're down. It keeps going, and I really want you to graduate with Ned and I. Don't let this determine how your life is gonna go. I really don't want you to be in a different graduating class." She stopped to take a deep breath, and gently took his hand in hers. "And hey, if you need to cry, don't hold it in. Don't hold anything in."

Peter smiled at her, before it went back to normal quickly, but MJ caught it, and smiled back while she gently squeezed his hand.

She had a feeling that things were about to turn. And, yeah, maybe things were going to turn slowly, but they were definitely going to turn out for the better.

* * *

She remembers the day everything was okay. It was like any other, with rain pouring down New York, as she walked the road, holding her umbrella in one hand, while she intertwined her fingers with Peter's in the other. Her teacher was angry that she had came in late and had shot her a fixed glare and a sharp "Nice to see your back to your old ways, Miss Jones," while Peter had gotten a pleasant "Welcome back, Mr. Parker," but she brushed the matter aside and waved it away anyway.

Everything was okay.

* * *

On graduation day, it was pouring rain.

Michelle can remember how upset most of the parents and guardians of the students were, since her and her classmates wouldn't get that cliché graduation they had in movies, and how annoyed the staff was, because it just had to rain on that day, but she thought it was fun. And she always liked the smell of rain, anyway.

Her, Peter, and Ned, had just finished getting their certificates and getting their scholarships announced (Peter and Ned had both, respectfully, earned admission to MIT, while she was going off to the Thomas Legaspi Art School and was interning at a local newspaper to a famous journalist), when they were sitting in the blue plastic chairs, near the bottom of the stage. Their principal was talking but, as Michelle glanced at Peter next to her, she found that she couldn't care less.

And it was almost as if Peter had sensed it, because he stared back at her and smiled. "What?" He asked with a laugh. "Are you gonna tell me how ridiculous I look with my crutches and graduation gown?"

Michelle shook her head, a real, genuine smile slipping from her lips. "No," she replied, happily. "I was going to tell you that I love you."

Peter's smile grew wider, and as his brown, coffee-like eyes shined with light, she couldn't help but stare into them. "Good," Peter finally agreed. "Because I love you, too."

* * *

 **And that's it! Once again, thanks to everyone who left a comment, followed, favourited, or read this fic. Special thanks goes to Brentinator, Gummybear1178, and Glittercat33. I love you all :)**

 **If you guys would like a sequel, or maybe have some ideas on how I can continue this fic through one-shots and stuff, then please PM me. You guys are all awesome, and thanks for following this fic!**


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